Turnabout Execution
by Black Waltz 0
Summary: A ghastly murder is committed on stage for hundreds of witnesses to see. The knife, the murder weapon drips still bloodied in his hand. What will Phoenix Wright do when that murderer turns out to be... him? Can he be saved? Is there even a chance?
1. Set The Stage

Turnabout Execution

A Phoenix Wright Fanfiction By

Black Waltz 0

(A/N: Okay, here we go. This would be the first murder mystery that I've ever written, and I'm writing it in a fandom that should _center_ around murder mysteries. Uh-oh. Well, as far as things go this story doesn't really have any proper placement in the game series timeline, as I've only ever played the first game before and know barely anything about the others. Let's hope I'm not ripping off an existing game case without even knowing it. Spoiler wise this fanfic would take place _after_ case four in the first game and _before_ case five in the first game. Also, it might seem a little dark and tinged with odd romance. I dunno yet. Please enjoy the fic.)

xxx

The dressing rooms at the back of the theater were usually a no go zone, that was the rule in order to keep theatergoers from flowing in, but this time Maya Fey and Larry Butz had special backstage passes that would let them through. They could go anywhere before the play started, provided they didn't go running about on the stage that was being turned into a battlement for the first act. Their passes hung proudly around their necks and Maya had to continually dodge backgrounds and props, whizzed about by highly-strung stagehands.

"Hey, watch it!" Maya shouted as somebody bumped her with a piece of Denmark's castle. The tickets they had were not cheap, but in actuality they had not cost anything at all. That was probably why Larry had come despite not understanding a lick of Shakespeare in the first place. It made an affordably date for his girlfriend for once, who had decided to patiently wait in the lobby for them while they looked around. Maya didn't understand Shakespeare either, not really, but she was not there for that. She was there to see her friend.

Who was practically invisible within the scuttling pre-performance chaos. Maya kept looking left and right while dragging Larry along by his coat sleeve, weaving around paint pots, weapons and outlandish costumes left lying on the floor. Larry was never given much of a warning as to what was coming next and therefore became practically a disaster on legs, leaving a trail of painted footprints on the floor.

It was only half an hour until showtime so there was no wonder everything was in a rush. Maya turned her head around to look once more, contemplating shouting if just searching wasn't good enough, and didn't notice the sturdy, almost-elderly fellow right in front of her until she bowled straight into him, headfirst against his black satin robe. "Oof!" Maya grunted as she bounced back off him, having Larry run into her from behind.

The elderly man put a hand out instinctively when he saw that Larry's impact was going to shove Maya forward against him again, bracing her at her shoulder. The spirit medium looked up at the oddly dressed man in surprise. He was bearded and robed, with a long gold medallion hanging down upon his front. "Whoa, young miss! Be careful or you and your friend might get trampled." He smiled kindly. "What are you doing backstage? This place is for the actors only."

"H-hold on!" Larry came up around Maya and flashed the man his VIP pass. It had been the first time that he had been able to do it that night and it felt _good_. "Just a minute, dude. We got invited in here. We wouldn't be crashing around backstage if we weren't." He felt that he'd be having more fun out there in the lobby with his new girl, Amber. She was a real _fox_, if only she'd get off her cell phone now and then…

The old man squinted at the pass held in Larry's hyperactively trembling hand and then looked at the similar pass around Maya's neck. It was good enough for him, although he couldn't make out any text properly without his reading glasses. "Oh, well that's a completely different story then! Please make yourselves at home!" He beamed brightly, the goings-on of the backstage play beginning to form around them naturally as they stayed still. The old man bowed formally. "What can I do for you? I have a name, but in the suspension of disbelief that all audience members should share you may call me Polonius, adviser to the king."

Maya clapped her hands together in childish delight. In many ways this theater reminded her of the movie studios where all her favorite shows were filmed but in here it was different, everything would be live-action and that made it more fun. "Mr. Polonius! Will we be seeing you in the play? Will it be good? I've never seen or read Hamlet before, you see." All she had heard was that in this play there was a lot of death. She never knew how right she would be.

"I wouldn't be dressed like this if I wasn't in the play! That's a rather unique costume you're wearing yourself, young miss!" Polonius laughed, referencing Maya's spirit medium attire. The girl grinned. "I can't tell you if this play will be good because this is our first performance with a new group of actors, but I _do_ have high hopes for them all the same. Are you looking for somebody in particular back here?" He asked.

Time was getting on. They wouldn't have much of a chance to talk and then get to their seats before the show started. Larry also had to go and grab Amber from the lobby too. "Um, have you seen… well, I guess you could call it if you suspended disbelief, where Hamlet is? We wanted to talk to him before the play starts, wish him good luck and stuff." Maya explained with a thoughtful fingertip on her chin. If she was any kind of fortune teller she knew that he'd be needing it.

"Ah, the new Hamlet? Nervous fellow, kept on throwing up in the men's room about an hour ago?" Polonius questioned in near-recognition. Maya nodded, that sounded about right. Larry was busy checking out Ophelia who had just glided past like a swan. The old man in the black robes understood and pointed in the direction they needed to go. "He would be over there, practicing lines with Rosencrantz." He said.

"Thank you, sir!" Maya announced with a quick bow and then seized the bit of string that held Larry's pass around his neck, yanking him over in that direction and almost strangling him in the process. Polonius watched them go, amused at their antics, then moved on himself. He may have been playing only a minor role, but he was also _running_ the show and needed to make sure everything was set in the short time they had left.

Hamlet was off in the corner of the backstage area with another actor, dressed in clothing made for their respective roles. He was poking the other actor ineffectually with a strange-looking prop sword while he rattled off the lines he was having the most trouble with. The other actor wasn't paying any attention to the pokes, this was most likely a normal occurrence to him and he was wearing a brass breastplate to boot.

"What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form, in moving, how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor woman either, though, by your smiling, you seem to say so. …God, I can't remember the next part. What is it again?"

"We've been over this a couple of times already. You say that, then I laugh, then you ask why I laughed, then you can continue with the 'he who plays the king' part. I know you remember that one, you did it perfectly a little while ago. Just remember your cues."

"I know. I'm just jittery, I guess." Hamlet admitted and rubbed the side of his neck modestly. "Let's take it from the top, one last time."

"_Nick_!" Maya called and waved to Hamlet energetically.

Phoenix looked up from the script he was perusing and saw two of his friends rushing toward him, one pulling the other behind them like a tugboat. Rosencrantz let out a little sigh and straightened up from the wall he was leaning against, knowing they weren't going to be doing any more rehearsing here. He left to go and find the new actor who would be playing Marcellus, as he'd probably be having a complete freakout by now. Best to nip that in the bud before anything disastrous would happen, or else would Polonius would end up having his head.

Trundling up to the star of the show, Maya and Larry came into the small corner he was camped out at, for both psychological safety and the safety of not being knocked down by a busy stagehand. Phoenix put his script down on a nearby storage crate and smiled anxiously. "There you guys are! It was getting so close to showtime that I thought nobody would bother to come." He sighed. "It's horrible. I've never been this nervous outside of a courtroom in years. I have butterflies and locusts _and_ hornets in my stomach all flying around together."

"I like your costume, prince of Denmark. You look like how Mr. Edgeworth would dress if he got sucked into one of those medieval-type role playing games." Maya giggled as Phoenix groaned. She was probably right. For the past one or two months they had been getting absolutely _no_ income whatsoever, and because the rent and bills needed to be paid without excuse he, Phoenix Wright, ace attorney, had fallen back on his secondary qualifications to make ends meet. Before he had entered law school he had been enrolled in an acting college for two years, and whatever it took to put food back on the table was fine by him.

Shakespearean tragedies had actually been his specialty in college, and though he had left the course prematurely he had dropped out somewhere near the top of his class. It had been a shame, but law had called out to him more strongly than the theater stage ever could. When Nick had been going through the part-time job listings over a cup of coffee one morning he saw that they had been openly casting for a new performance of Shakespeare's Hamlet. He had auditioned, and through some miracle or another he had sunk the starring role.

Actually it hadn't been a miracle at all but Nick wasn't one to turn up a free job offer, especially when it was a job he could actually _handle_. Back in college he had played Horatio rather than Hamlet, but he could adapt. The pay was good, the shows were performed in the evening so if he suddenly had a case he could work on that during the daylight hours, and it would honestly be a little fun. That was why he was here, dressed as a prince of Denmark, getting reading to go on stage and act like a nutter for all to see.

It wouldn't be much different to a normal day in court, then.

"Speaking of Edgeworth I sent a pass to him and Gumshoe, but it seems like they're not coming either." Nick guessed cynically. He hadn't really expected Edgeworth to come, not with the awkward way they tended to act around each other now, but still, the extra bit of support would have been great. Even if his acting stunk up the place at least he'd be able to count on the fact that a few people in the front row might be clapping anyway. Two out of four invited people showing up wasn't that bad for somebody with his shoddy luck.

"There's still time for them to show up, so you never know." Maya reassured him, perhaps not being quite as optimistic privately. "Focus on performing good and don't care about who's watching! Just like singing in the shower!"

"Er… I _would_ care about who was watching me singing in the shower…" Phoenix mumbled quietly to himself but could tell what she was driving at. He rarely got stage fright now, and if he did, puking it up before a performance usually helped. He toyed with his prop sword while he spoke, pressing in and coaxing out the retractable blade with the palm of his hand. "I thought that Edgeworth might like stuff like this. Culture stuff."

"I do, but I also have appointments to keep, Wright." Said a voice beside them. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, or from behind a wall of busy people popped out Miles Edgeworth and Dick Gumshoe, appearing with the stealth and spontaneity of a pair of ninjas.

Nick nearly jumped out of his skin. "D-don't sneak up on me like that!" He cried, noticing that his hands had moved faster than his brain and had stabbed Edgeworth in the stomach with his prop sword, all the way up to the hilt. Miles looked down at the gentle pressure on his front with mild interest. Good thing that sword had been retractable and fake. He reached down, took Nick's wrist and forced his hand away.

"Please forgive us for being slightly late. I had a backlog of paperwork in my office to complete and Mr. Gumshoe's watch seems to have stopped." Edgeworth informed them impartially and also a little coldly. For all they had gone through he wasn't quite used to talking to work-related associates outside of a courtroom setting. Usually they were rivals. He had come because loosely, _very_ loosely they were his friends. Gumshoe had practically dragged him along too, wanting to see a Shakespeare play for the first time.

"Yeah, sorry pal! The guy in the alley I bought this watch from said it was completely waterproof, but it broke the _second_ I dropped it in my daily cup 'o soup! Lies and deception! I'll find that lousy mug soon enough!" Gumshoe barked loudly at the others, above the bustle of the area. It wasn't quite certain if he had dropped his watch in _deliberately_ or not. Knowing Gumshoe there was no telling of the truth.

"Hey Nick, you're sword's broken." Maya pointed out earnestly. "It won't stab properly. How are you meant to sword fight with something like that?"

"It's meant to be that way. It's supposed to make the stabbings look more authentic. They have sharper, real swords for the fencing scenes." The attorney turned actor said to his assistant and then looked at Edgeworth closely, then Gumshoe. He glanced back at the prosecutor again. "Edgeworth, where's your backstage pass? I did send you a ticket, right?" Not that the other man wasn't able to afford one by himself, but still…

When Miles smiled there was a bit of smugness to it. He folded his arms. "Hmph. I don't need a pass to come and go as I please. I'm one of this theater's more generous patrons, so I have access to just about anything and anyone. Theatergoing is one of my hobbies, Wright. You didn't know? Some of my previous donations are probably going into your pay packet for this show." Phoenix turned a rather interesting shade of red. Edgeworth didn't know if it was from embarrassment or indignity, or both. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. It was hard to curb his defensiveness sometimes. "So put on a good performance for our amusement." He added after a few uncomfortable moments.

Nick felt foolish. He always felt that way when Miles was looking down on him. "Yeah, okay." He said in a soft voice. If he messed up now he'd really have something to regret. "I'll try. Alas poor Yorick, I knew him, Horatio…"

"So is this the play with the bear that rides around in the little car wearing a fez?" Gumshoe asked innocently as Maya began to look around for where Larry had gone off to, the bumbling man having followed Ophelia's actress away minutes earlier. Nobody seemed to want to dignify the detective's question with a response. Clearly he was thinking of something else, though whatever it was nobody had a clue.

At this point Rosencrantz came back, only there was something oddly contrary about him this time and his clothes were of a slightly different colour. This was strange, as not nearly enough time had elapsed for him to have changed costumes properly, especially with a costume as elaborate as his. He had a clipboard in his gloved hands and a pencil at the corner of his mouth. "Ten minutes until act one, scene one. All you people get out of here and go to your seats. That includes you too, Mr. Edgeworth."

The moment that Phoenix seemed to hear the ten minute warning he broke out into a fine sweat. Outside of rehearsals he hadn't acted on a stage for over four years. If he blew it he was going to blow it _majorly_. Nick made his voice calm and smiled bravely, to Edgeworth in particular to show he was completely composed. He was glad the grey-haired man had come. "I'll see you in a couple of minutes. There are three intermissions in this play but you can come backstage during the second one. Tell me what you think of me by then."

Rosencrantz was now trying to usher his friends away manually. Maya waved spastically to him as they left. "Good luck!" She called.

"Break a leg!" Gumshoe shouted out behind her.

Edgeworth was the last to leave, and was probably the most hesitant. "Do your best." He said finally, then turned away before his little smile could spread.

When they were gone Nick put his prop sword down again and picked up his script. He had highlighted all his lines with a pink marker earlier and there certainly were a lot of lines to memorize. He had to stop being Phoenix Wright now and start being somebody else, to be Lord Hamlet, insane prince of the Danes. If he could suspend his own belief things would run much smoother and he wouldn't have to fear. Anyhow, he needed to get into position before the second scene began.

Hamlet looked to Rosencrantz, who had a second job besides acting out his role. He fed out lines from the wings of the stage in case the actors forgot any. Hamlet hoped that he wouldn't have to rely on Rosencrantz _too_ much, aside from when they were both in a scene together. "I feel like I'm gonna die." He admitted with a nervous chuckle.

The other actor appeared to be a little out-of-sorts himself. He was sweating too, though he had performed this play dozens and dozens of times before over the years. "This is Hamlet, newbie. _Everybody's_ gonna die. This play is busting to the seams with murder. There'll be blood in the aisles tonight." He joked.

He was more correct than anybody would ever suspect. The theater and their small performance was about to become host to the play within a play, and that macabre matinee would be cold-blooded killing.

The stage was set.

All the actors need do was begin the dance.


	2. Night Of The Murder

Lots of people were already in their seats by the time Maya and her friends entered the auditorium. The crowd was a wide mix of people, from moustached men in suits wearing monocles and fat ladies in furs and jewels, to casually dressed people with hopeful smiles on their faces, some bringing their families along with them for the show. The rich people had private booths from which they could observe the performance from afar, while everybody else was grouped closely together in the stands. Maya could see the glinting of light off of gaudy jewelry from where she currently stood.

Their seats were all the way up the front. It was in the second row, not the first, but they were still pretty good seats all the same. They crept in single file through the row, Edgeworth first, Maya, then Gumshoe, Larry and Amber. Larry was trying to get his girlfriend to switch off her phone for the show. He was pretty unsuccessful so far. A general murmur was in the air, of dozens and dozens of audience members all talking quietly at once. "So what's Hamlet about specifically?" Maya asked her friends around her.

Before anybody could answer the lights began to dim. The show was beginning! The voices in the background quieted down and hushed up, so near silence was all around them. Maya smiled. This was so exciting! From the pit near the stage the orchestra struck up a low, haunting overture, and the rich red curtains parted back to reveal the first scene. It was on top of a castle at night, with thick angry thunderclouds hanging overhead. Maya realised that the composer of this score had tried to make it sound like the coming of thunder, and evil.

Nick didn't seem to be in the opening scene. Two men wearing heavy armor and carrying spears came from either side of the wings, obviously guardsmen defending the castle. The feather plumes on the tops of their helmets and their locks of hair underneath blew gently in an artificial wind. The audience could nearly _smell_ the storm that was about to come.

The sentinels met at the center of the battlements but because of the darkness they didn't appear to see each other clearly. "Who's there?" one cried and the other answered powerfully, strongly; "Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself!"

"Long live the king!"

From that point on the play spiraled down into a morbid, tragic tale of murder and deceit. Maya hadn't expected a cheerful and happy play from the beginning, but she was surprised at how deeply and ferociously the story was set on revenge. People were murdered without repercussion, didn't people have to answer for their crimes in those days? The cast of characters mostly seemed to be filled by villains with smiling faces, but as the play progressed Hamlet seemed to become the most degenerate villain of all.

It didn't take long for Nick to appear on the stage. He was cast into the role of the main character, so he _had_ to turn up sooner or later. But the funny thing was that it didn't really feel like Nick was up there, acting his little heart out. It felt like the man raving and plotting and swearing vengeance only _looked_ like Phoenix Wright, just in appearance, because in everything else he had become Hamlet, prince of the Danes. He spoke his lines perfectly, acted and reacted perfectly, and seemed to give the entire performance life.

It was good acting, but it was also a little creepy, mostly because Maya and the others hadn't known that Nick had that sort of talent in him. Indeed, as Hamlet, Horatio and the sentinels met with the ghost of the dead king and forged a pact of silence and madness Edgeworth folded his arms, displaying a small smirk. "I have seen a few actors better than him in my experience," the prosecutor said haughtily, "but I have seen many, many more that weren't." That was the closest thing to praise that Miles could probably give.

Sitting at Maya's left Gumshoe watched the play with childlike curiosity. He was following the story, just barely, and any parts that he didn't understand he tried to fill in with reasoning instead. This wasn't as entertaining as the little bear with the fez would have been, but it certainly was more interesting. As Hamlet descended into fits of hysterical maddening laughter, confused Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with nonsense and rhetoric, and chased the lady Ophelia about, tearing at her skirts and howling abuse Gumshoe shook his head and sighed. "Boy, if I ever caught somebody like that walking the streets I'd put him in the funny farm faster than you can say 'nutcase'." He said.

The play continued, then turned inside out on itself when Hamlet hired a troupe of actors to put on a performance for him, the king and his courtiers. He urged them to reenact the murder of Gonzago, craftily orchestrating the play to resemble the real death of his father by his uncle, the current king. Hamlet was acting just like a prosecutor, planning to press his accused with the sequence of the murder to see if he would crack. Hamlet voiced the idea well himself, murmuring to the audience; "The play's the thing! Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king!"

Eventually there was a brief intermission. It only lasted fifteen minutes or so but Maya was impatient to see the rest of the story. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, wondering if the king would admit to the murder, or if he'd be totally cool and deny everything. The girl turned to Edgeworth who was talking to one of the richer audience members about the show. It looked like they knew each other or something.

He had seen Hamlet before, lots of times it seemed, but she didn't want the older man to give the story away. During the next intermission she'd get to talk to Nick again. She had at least two dozen questions to ask him, but for now he'd need the break off stage. Knowing Phoenix he'd probably be doing what he usually did during a courtroom recess; drinking a huge glass of water and fretting over what was going to happen next.

Maya overheard a brief snippet of Edgeworth's conversation. "I knew this was going to be a particularly interesting show because I have seen the theatrical farces he puts on in court. That talent had to come from somewhere! In any case it is good to see you still attend periodically, Mr. Begucci." The other man said something, but his accent was weird so she didn't understand him, then there was laughter.

The lobby was totally crowded during the intermission but soon enough they were back in their seats again, and the play within a play was starting to begin. Larry had sneakily managed to creep an arm around his girlfriend and Gumshoe had procured a bag of popcorn from somewhere. This was odd, because the theater didn't sell food. He offered some to Maya with a silly grin and she gladly took a handful, munching them one at a time.

It was a very surreal experience to be sitting in an audience watching a play, while the actors themselves were gathered around and _also_ watching a play. The evidence was being presented, would it work? A puppet king slept on a miniature stage as an evil little mannequin crept up to it silently, murdering the puppet with a vial of poison. As the dead king was placed into the ground the slimy murderer began to court the dead king's widow, taking her as his wife and also the crown of Denmark.

The music reached a crescendo as the murderer-king watching the play stood bolt upright and screamed; "Give me some light!", fleeing from the room. Maya gasped and jumped a little as the king moved so quickly, nearly stumbling over Polonius as he was sitting close by. A guilty action if Maya ever saw one! She grinned, but her grin faded as Hamlet also reacted to the expression of guilt, bursting into a frenzy of accusations and driving everybody, including his mother out of the room.

In the beginning Hamlet had sworn that he was only _pretending_ to be mad, but now Maya was not so sure. If his madness was an act then it was too good, too real. Edgeworth leant over to her slightly. "This next scene is my favorite part of the play. Hamlet has acquired a guilty verdict and all that remains to be done now is the sentencing, judgement. In the chapel Hamlet decides to murder the king, who is praying for absolution from God."

As a prosecutor, that probably _would_ be Edgeworth's favorite part. The sense of revenge that Hamlet held was destroying him and everybody around him, but he was now too insane to notice. Maya thought that if he'd stoop to murder to get his revenge then he was no better than the king. Phoenix really did his best bit of acting all night in that scene, he managed to keep Hamlet in a sense of madness while speaking softly, calmly, reservedly. It was chilling to watch.

But Hamlet did not slay the king. If he committed murder within a church he was certain that his uncle's soul would go to heaven while his own would definitely go to hell. He stole away before detection, and finally, though unknowingly, the last scene of the night began.

It would be a killer, this one.

xxx

It was only a little more than halfway through the play and Nick was already thoroughly exhausted. No matter what anybody said it took a herculean effort to set the acting pace for everybody to follow, remember all of his lines and then perform all the actions and running about to accompany them. It took a lot of work to play the fool, it seemed. He had only a minute or two while the stage was rearranged into the queen's bedroom to take a breather, put his prop sword down and wipe the sweat from his brow. It had been a cold day outside but under the flooding stage lights it had felt like the Sahara desert out there.

Phoenix raised both his hands to rearrange some droopy spikes of hair back into their proper place. He reckoned he was doing an okay job out there, nobody was throwing rotten fruit at him at least, but he hoped that he was living up to the standards that Polonius had set him against. That old man had given him these shoes to fill, had given him a chance when he needed one the most, and for that Nick was grateful. The only thing he could do to repay him was to make this play a success.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. If he wanted to he could forgive him for the trouble that had happened four years ago, but that wouldn't be happening any time soon. That wouldn't be happening _ever_. Even if this job from Polonius was just a silent apology over what had happened Nick wouldn't be able to accept it. That was just the way things were.

But he didn't have time to be thinking about junk like that; the stage was almost ready. He had had a little trouble with ignoring the audience out in front of him, although he knew that he was supposed to pretend that the stage was the entire world and the audience did not exist. Sometimes he found himself stealing a peek at his friends in the front row, desperately wanting to know what they thought of the play, of him. Were they caught up in the action or recoiling with the sheer awfulness of it all? He needed to know.

This scene was the one where Polonius was to be stabbed. He knew it off by heart and had practiced it well, because this was the scene that ignited the rivalry between Hamlet and Laertes, and the insanity in Ophelia. If it wasn't done right those other scenes would lose their value. Nick got up from where he had been leaning against a piece of castle but the actor playing Rosencrantz stopped by and gave him a smile before he could leave. He grabbed Nick heartily by the arm and distributed a rough shake. "You're doing great. Keep it up!" He said proudly.

"Yeah!" Guildenstern chimed from behind him. Phoenix flinched, but that actor had a habit of popping up at strange times. The messy-haired, stubbly man had both his hands behind his back. "Go on out there and kill that pompous chamberlain. As for me, I'd better get in position too." He declared.

"Me too." Rosencrantz agreed and shoved Nick over to the entrance before Guildenstern could move. "Make it look real." He whispered with a hint of mischief, then let him go.

Something seemed wrong in their eagerness to get him back on stage but he was in too much of a hurry to think anything of it. Already the queen was urging Polonius to hide behind the curtains on stage, where he would remain until he was impaled on Hamlet's sword. Nick patted his scabbard lightly to make sure he was armed. He had picked his sword back up just before Rosencrantz had led him to the entrance. It'd mess up the play if Hamlet tried to kill Polonius without a weapon.

When Queen Gertrude looked toward him offstage that was his cue to get back into the limelight. His motivation was that his mother wanted to soothe him and wrest the truth from him, cover it up before Hamlet could do anything drastic to the king. It seemed pretty straightforward, so off he went. "Now mother, what's the matter?" He called irritably as he stepped back onto center stage.

The queen was sitting on her bed, counseled by Polonius on what to say, and willing to sacrifice the welfare of her son for the sake of her new husband. Her enormous dress and jewels seemed to suffocate her. "Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended."

And the queen has such a nerve to call Hamlet's father's murderer his _real_ father. No wonder the prince was so upset. "Mother, you have _my_ father much offended!" He declared with righteousness and anger. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, other events were beginning to take hold…

Faking tears, the queen looked away. She brushed at her face with a many-ringed hand. On stage crying on command was a precious gift. This actress had learned it well. She really _did_ look like a mother whose child had forsaken her. "Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue."

He matched her accusation with one of his own, playing to the structure of her words. "Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue."

Her soft brown eyes looked up at him demurely. "Why, how now, Hamlet?"

There was a reason why he had been brought to this chamber and he wanted to know it, so he could finish this business and get back to the task at hand, organizing the murder of his uncle. There was much to be done. He loved his mother, though he despised her choices, and knew that she was wasting his time. "What's the matter now?" He asked, exasperated.

His traitorous mother sobbed theatrically. She had lost her first husband to death and her only son to madness. What was she to do? "Have you forgot me?"

Hamlet came forward and knelt by her bed, covered in silks, and took his mother's soft hand. "No, by the rood, not so. You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife, and, would it were not so, you are my mother."

She tried to accept his clarity, even though it was probably a lie. From the curtains came a rustle, then a whisper, and then a tiny laugh. "Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak."

In his heart of hearts he wanted to forgive her, he wished that he could, but that sort of forgiveness was not in him. His growing madness told him one very simple fact. Only God would be able to forgive her, and the quickest way to send his dear incestuous mother to God was through death. She would not be able to interfere with his revenge if she was dead. Hamlet stood and drew his sword upon her, brandishing it threateningly. "Come, come and sit you down, you shall not budge. You go not until I set you up a glass where you may see the inmost part of you." He intoned.

Nick heard some of the audience, those who hadn't seen this play before gasp at this rash act of madness. He must have _really_ gone mad if he found it reasonable to kill his own mother. The queen gave a little cry and slid back on her bed to get away from the sword, cowering and shielding her face with her hands. She thought that he would do it, that her son was capable of matricide. "What will you do?" She whimpered. "Thou wilt not murder me? Help, ho!"

This was the cue for Polonius to cry out as well. He was slightly late, perhaps by a second, but it didn't register in Nick's mind at the time that the voice coming from behind the curtains was _not_ that of Polonius. "What, ho! Help!" It called, then it was all over.

Maybe Phoenix Wright was getting a little _too_ into the role of Hamlet, because he turned to the curtains eagerly and let the audience see the murderous gleeful expression on his face as he rushed to the drapery, taking up his blade with both of his hands. That expression had been hard-earned, hard to make, and had come about from many sessions of practice in college. He was proud of using it. "How now?" He shouted zealously, raising up his sword to strike. "A rat! Dead for a ducat, dead!"

On the final exclamation of 'dead' he thrust the sword into the curtains with all the strength that he had. It made the stabbing look real but a moment later he realised that he'd probably bruised poor Polonius with the end of the retractable sword. Oh well, no matter. He'd apologise later.

However…

He knew there was something horribly wrong when Polonius didn't scream. You'd think that it'd be the other way around or something, with a scream meaning the worst of things, but it had been written into the play for Polonius to shout in pain and agony. The silence meant that something had gone wrong, the deep, sick way that Phoenix had stabbed meant that something had gone wrong. In his hands he had felt it, the way that the blade of the sword had met a barrier and sunk past it, pushed deeper by the thrust of his stab.

It had not meant to be that way, and there was supposed to be a scream. Polonius would never forget such a simple line. Nick was still hunched over with the grip of the sword in his hands, most of the blade disappearing into the curtains and beyond. Even if the blade had retracted fully it was not meant to go in so deeply. A trickle of perspiration ran down the side of his face and his neck, the stage lights were so hot and bright that they threatened to confuse him. Time seemed to slow down into a crawl. He wasn't supposed to move until Polonius screamed, that was the cue to yank the sword back out again.

A few seconds passed. All the attention of the theater was directed squarely at him. He couldn't hesitate and mess up the flow of the play, he'd have to skip the cue and just follow on with the script. Queen Gertrude was still sprawled out on her bed and looked at him with wide-eyed surprise. It was obviously feigned, it had to be. His friends in the audience watched with baited breath, wanting to see if Nick was on the verge of a spectacular burst of acting or if he was just going to mess up. He swallowed hard to clear the dryness in his throat and stepped back a pace, pulling the sword out with him.

Nick's blood ran cold as he felt something beyond the curtains _resist_ having the sword pulled back. It was like plunging a leg into mud, or into very thick quicksand. The coldness started in his chest and spread out to devour every limb, every pore and every vein, until it felt like he had just taken a dunk in Gourd Lake during wintertime. The crowd began to murmur; they were now sensing that something had gone wrong. Nick pulled for a second time and finally the sword came free. It was almost a relief to discover what had happened, though that relief lasted for only a nanosecond or so.

The tip and along the length of the sword, about a foot long, was soaked in blood. A little bead of the stuff was forming at the very end of the weapon, but when Phoenix raised it slightly to get a better look the blood slid away and dribbled down, towards his trembling hands. It was blood, oh God, it was blood. Not the bright fake kind they had used during their dress rehearsals, but the thick dark gunky stuff that Nick had seen in photos while pouring over case files at work. There was no mistaking it, this was _real_ blood.

For a ghost of a second Nick could have sworn that he heard a faint whisper coming from the curtains, but he was far too busy staring at the blood to notice any of that. To him the audience ceased to exist, the stage lost all relevance and it was just him standing there, the curtains containing a secret that was just too frightening to comprehend. In the front rows Maya looked to Edgeworth for answers. "Why's he just standing there? Is this in the play?"

Edgeworth was staring intently at the stage, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up like crazy. This was how it was meant to happen in the play, but Hamlet was _not_ meant to look so frightened. Had Wright forgotten his lines? No, probably not. If he had he'd just start ad libbing instead. If this look of fear _was_ real acting then the defense attorney deserved a stack of awards for his efforts. "I don't know. I think he's just-" He began.

Then the body fell out onto the stage and all doubts were erased. The kindly old man who had played Polonius hit the ground all twisted and crumpled-like, with a considerable amount of force. Polonius' eyes were just showing the whites, his mouth was wide open and slack, and his skin was blotchy and discolored. His tongue lolled out of his mouth resembling a fat, sated leech. A faint spattering of fake red blood burst from below him as he hit the stage but the _authentic_ wound was in his chest, where blood was gushing out like a ruptured pressure pump.

Funnily enough, not everybody in the theater had caught onto the notion that a _real_ murder had just taken place right in front of their eyes. They still thought it was all part of the show. Heck, even a few of them applauded the wonderful display of acting skill. Two of these people included Dick Gumshoe and Larry Butz. Amber was too busy sending a text message to notice, but Maya bit the heel of her hand in fright and Miles Edgeworth narrowed his eyes. They had experienced enough murder to recognise it taking hold.

Phoenix Wright went absolutely white with dread. He went beyond that, all the blood draining from his face making him seem an ashen grey. He reached out and wiped his fingers along the bloodied part of his sword, just to see if it was real or not. The blood was sticky and hot, _so_ hot, as it had just been flowing through a living person's heart only seconds earlier. A high-pitched keening sound escaped from Nick's throat, a light quiet wail that he could not conceal. Literally, the blood was on his hands now.

People were talking and muttering to each other, some were gasping, but when the actress playing Queen Gertrude screamed like a woman from a cheesy fifties horror flick and promptly passed out the accompanying screams and shouts began. Cries of; "He's killed him for real!" "I don't believe it!" and, "Somebody call an ambulance!" began to shoot back and forth across the auditorium like tracer fire.

Nick was still standing there like a statue. The growing pool of blood from Polonius' stab wound was creeping towards his feet but he didn't dare move. His legs felt like they had become bolted to the floor. People from the audience were shouting at him but he couldn't see beyond the first three or four rows; the stage lights were too strong. He looked at the body again. It was still there and it was real. "I…" He gasped, finally able to take a shaky step away. He dropped his sword, the murder weapon. It clattered to the ground. "I killed…" He gasped.

Cries for an ambulance were diminishing and cries for the police to be notified were growing instead. Poor Gumshoe was looking about wildly, perplexed. What was going on? Edgeworth stood bolt upright all of a sudden and shouted to the only conscious living actor on the stage. Miles could have a rather loud voice when he wanted to, so he was confident that his words would reach him. "Wright! What have you done?" He demanded.

Phoenix couldn't take his eyes off the body. He just couldn't. He had caused this. He had killed someone. He was a murderer. Edgeworth's voice sounded very close by but felt very distant. "I don't know… I didn't want this to happen…" It seemed like he was becoming disoriented. Actually, his body was locking down into shock. "I killed him. I really killed him. God, I'm sorry…"

"Oh man…" Gumshoe had at last put all of the pieces together now and he had risen from his place too, climbing over a row of seats in front of him to get to the stage. He didn't look away from the scene of the crime, as he was professionally supposed to do, and his hands fumbled around at his belt for something that he'd need. He ascended to the stage through one of the side staircases and Maya was suddenly terrified that he might pull a gun out on Nick.

She knew that Gumshoe walked around armed in case any funny stuff went on, but she had never imagined the large, decidedly bumbling detective would ever have to _use_ it. A horrible thought ripped into her mind. What if Gumshoe was going to shoot him? They had just seen a murder take place and the murderer was standing there like a dazed idiot. Shooting him would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Were detectives allowed to shoot murderers on sight? Maya didn't know. "Dick!" She cried, waving her arms around and nearly swatting Edgeworth across the face. "Please don't!"

But Gumshoe couldn't listen to her. He was the only cop on the scene; he had to do his job. Fortunately what Dick took from his belt wasn't a gun, it was a set of handcuffs. When he got up onto the stage the lights hit him strongly. It was a totally different environment up there. Phoenix wasn't very far away from him near the left hand side of the stage, but Gumshoe had to take a roundabout way in reaching him so as not to disturb the crime scene. There was blood on the wooden floors, almost like a small lake. Other places included the dropped murder weapon and Nick's hands, which were shaking.

Nick did a very stupid thing now and tried to wipe the blood on his hands off onto his shirt. All he succeeded in doing was to smear the evidence around and implicate him further. He barely registered it when Gumshoe leapt up behind him and seized both of his arms, forcing them with phenomenal strength behind his back. If Gumshoe ever quit the force he'd always have the option to become a professional wrestler, Phoenix thought deliriously and hysterically as a pair of cold, vice-like metal clamps cinched down about his wrists.

The rest was just formality. Gumshoe felt awful saying it. "Phoenix Wright, I am arresting you for the crime of murder on the fifteenth of Janurary, two thousand and seventeen. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be made available to you through order of the state…" As he was saying this Gumshoe was also reaching for his radio. He quit his little speech for the moment to call in for some uniformed help.

Meanwhile ushers were running about crazily trying to herd people out of the theater. Nick's legs became wobbly, he sagged against Gumshoe's broad front. Thankfully his friend didn't let him fall over, he held onto Phoenix by the shoulder as he talked into his radio. The defense attorney thought that Dick had responded really well to an emergency. It was surprising considering how much of a goof he was.

Of course, Nick was only trying to think of this to keep his mind off the dead person on the floor. He looked toward his friends still in the front row. Larry and Amber seemed deeply shocked, Maya was in tears and Edgeworth had his hand over his mouth to mask whatever kind of expression was forming under there. They had seen it all.

It was too much to cope with. He began to black out.

"I'm sorry." He said one last time, before he fainted.

xxx

Two hours later, after the performance had been cancelled and Nick was taken away Maya, Edgeworth and Larry were standing outside of the theater building, hiding under the jutting roof to avoid the rain. It had been cloudy and dreary all day long but in the night the rain had come. It was about ten thirty by Edgeworth's watch. Gumshoe had left along with the other uniformed police to get Phoenix escorted to the station. He had revived from his faint later on and he was anything but violent, yet it was mandatory for a murderer to have a fully armed escort all the same.

His three friends had observed him getting into the cop car morosely, watched Gumshoe gently remind him to mind his head as they bundled him into the vehicle. Nick looked back at them tearfully before he disappeared behind the tinted glass. Not long after that Larry's girlfriend Amber had left, saying something about having work early tomorrow morning. She didn't even kiss him goodnight, getting into her luxury car and driving away. For once Larry didn't go on and on about it, and that was one tiny consolation for the night.

Maya wrapped her raincoat tightly about her body. She felt very cold. "I don't know what I'm gonna do now. Nick's the only one with keys to the apartment." She said quietly to herself. She couldn't go home if she couldn't get inside the apartment, and it was already too late to find a hotel. There wasn't enough money in her pockets to pay for a room, anyway.

Edgeworth hadn't spoken to Maya when Phoenix wasn't around. He had never had a reason to before. Now that the spiky-haired man was gone nobody had stopped to think about what was going to happen to this girl. As far as Miles knew Nick had been a stand-in guardian for her ever since her older sister had died. It was the only way the penniless defense attorney would be able to afford anything as extravagant as an assistant. Maya was still trembling two hours later from the cold and the emotion, her cheeks wet with tears.

She turned to the gangly man with the goatee. He looked like her only way into getting a bed for the night, not that she'd be able to sleep or anything. Maya hadn't felt this awful since the night of her sister's murder. "Larry, can I crash at your place tonight? I won't be a problem, I promise." She asked, clasping her hands together.

Larry sweatdropped. Ordinarily he'd be happy to help out a friend in need, because that was what friends were for, but he had a problem that made everything rather difficult. "Oh geez, sorry. I'm sorry kid. I'm kind of between homes right now. I haven't found a place I can afford yet. Plus my old girl has half of my stuff at her place still. I'm camped out behind my hotdog stand on the lake. You came come camp out with me if you'd like."

But Larry would only have enough camping equipment for one person, himself. The lake was cold, especially during the winter season. Maya's spirits fell further. "Thanks, but no thanks. Maybe I can go down to the police station and they can arrange something for me." She said with a sigh. It was a good long walk from the theater to the station, Maya would be lucky if she got there before midnight. The girl wished that she had thought of the idea earlier, then she could have asked for a lift from the policemen who had taken Nick away.

Maya tied her coat about her waist and began to walk away, but as she passed Edgeworth by he reached out and took her by the elbow. It was late, too late for a young girl to be walking the streets alone. Anything could happen, one crime had already been committed and they didn't need any more. Edgeworth wasn't necessarily a caring person but courtesy was better than nothing. "Wait. You don't have to walk. I'll give you a lift." He offered.

The girl looked up at him and sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of a hand. She was upset not just because Nick had been taken away, but because such a nice man, Polonius, had died needlessly tonight. She hadn't even found out his real name. Now Edgeworth was being kind to her. In one evening the world had gone topsy-turvy. Maya thought for a bit and then nodded once. "Okay." She said with another sniff.

After saying goodbye and goodnight to Larry Maya followed Edgeworth to his car, parked in the VIP car park area. The girl had her head down, letting the young prosecutor lead her by the hand. Most of the shock from earlier had faded away but she still couldn't really function properly, not on her own. It was nice of Edgeworth to do this for her, he didn't have any obligation to be kind.

Edgeworth's bright red sports car was easy to spot even in the darkness of the night. It just screamed 'money to burn'. They walked under the dim street lights and Miles opened up the back door for her, letting Maya crawl inside. The car still smelled new and the seats were leather and comfortable, almost like sitting on a cloud. Nobody said anything. There was no need.

Miles got into the driver's seat and Maya strapped herself in, looking listlessly out the window as the car came to life with a smooth purr and backed out of the car park. Looking out of the rearview mirror Edgeworth saw one of the actors from the play leaning against a street light, enjoying a cigarette. Guildenstern looked quite different dressed in casual clothes. He was grinning.

The drive to the station was long and very quiet. The traffic was minimal and it took half an hour to get there. Edgeworth knew that Wright's office was a short walk away and his apartment only a stone's throw, but if the girl didn't have the key to get in there wasn't any point in heading over there. It was a shame. She'd probably end up sleeping on a bench in the station's lobby, no better than a criminal.

He parked and got out of the car to open the door for Maya. The thick heavy rain had lightened into a fine drizzle. Eventually, in the early morning it would turn into fog. Edgeworth turned up the collar of the coat anyway to block out the rain. It had been a long night. He never would have expected anything like _this_ happening the day before. It just went to show how surprising and cynical life really was.

When he opened the door to get Maya out he noticed that she was already asleep. It was an exhaustive, aftershocked sleep, something that he couldn't wake her from even as he gently shook her shoulder. Maya's face remained serene and calm. Edgeworth entertained the idea of maybe carrying her into the station, but doing that and dumping her on a bench somewhere didn't seem right. With a sigh he closed the door again.

He lived in a very big house, there were several unused guest rooms waiting to be filled. Having a guest for once might not be such a bad thing, provided she remained asleep. It would be better than here, the station.

Sometimes he was just too nice for his own good. Edgeworth berated himself for it sharply. He'd probably regret it later. "Damn it…" He said roughly to himself as he took the wheel again, taking himself and his unexpected guest back home.


	3. The Kindness Of A Stranger

When Maya awoke her head was lying against a soft goose feather pillow, _not_ a comfortable leather car seat. The last thing she had known was waiting in Edgeworth's car to be taken to the police station, where she had been planning on begging lodgings for the night. Maybe there was a gap in her memory, because she was definitely tucked up in bed somewhere and she was nice and safe. Morning light was streaming in from a crack in the curtains, pale and reminiscent of early dawn. Another new day.

The sheets and blankets covering her body smelled like they had been washed in mild lavender. It was pleasant and sort of made her want to drift off to sleep again, but instead Maya sat up and began to rub the sleep out of her eyes. As she raised her hand she realised that she wasn't wearing her spirit medium outfit anymore, but a warm and comparatively big pair of pink flannel pajamas. Her original clothes were folded over the head of a nearby chair, washed, pressed and looking as good as new.

The room Maya had woken up in was beautifully furnished and clean. From the apparent gap in her memory she guessed that the police must have put her up in a fancy hotel room somewhere, but for what reason she could not recall. _Why_ had she been travelling to the police station anyway, especially without Nick at her side? She had no reason to go there if it wasn't to investigate a case. On a normal day she'd wake up on an inflatable mattress in Nick's living room. What had changed?

Then she saw the folded theater program sticking out of the sleeve of her outfit and it all came rushing back. The theater, the play, going backstage to wish her friend good luck and then watching the show, through to the stabbing and beyond. She remembered seeing Phoenix impale that nice old man on the end on his sword and then all the blood, a puddle that seemed to go on forever. That was right, Nick had killed somebody last night and he had been taken away. No wonder she was here all alone.

Edgeworth had promised to take her to the police station but she must have fallen asleep in his car before he could keep that word. It felt so strange to wake up all alone and not have Nick gently shaking her awake, telling her to get up before he'd roll her up in her own portable bedding. Before that it had been her sister, saying that if she didn't visit the waking world soon she'd completely miss breakfast. Maybe Maya had taken for granted the comfort of another person's presence, but it was too late now.

Nick had become a murderer right in front of her eyes. She had seen it all happen. Now that those memories had come back to her she couldn't get rid of them, especially the way Polonius had looked when he fell out of the curtains and Phoenix's tearful expression as he was escorted into the police car. It didn't feel right, it didn't seem real. Maya would have gladly accepted it as a nightmare were it possible, but the program sticking out of her sleeve and the nice room she was in spoke otherwise.

Maya felt like she wanted to cry, but if she started now she wouldn't be able to stop. Instead she choked down the wave of threatening tears and slipped out of bed. Her bare toes curled over the unfamiliar carpeting. She walked up to the window and opened the curtains properly, letting in all of the warming sunshine and a very nice view of the city's uptown district. Maya could see a well-tended garden and a cleanly cropped lawn. This place didn't seem like a hotel at all, but if she wasn't in a hotel then where was she?

A trio of ducks were waddling across the lawn towards a little pond on the other side of the garden. Maya broke away from the window and headed to the door, letting herself out into the corridor. She had to find out where she was and from there find some way to see Nick again. She was so worried for him, the poor guy must have spent the entire night in a prison cell, when he wasn't being thoroughly questioned by interrogators, that was. Maya felt that he wouldn't be able to cope without her, despite the fact that he was a fully grown man and had lived life fine without an assistant beforehand.

That wasn't the point. The point was that Maya needed to check up on him for her own benefit just as much as his. She needed to confirm the facts on what had _really_ happened last night. Hearing it from Nick's mouth would be the most accurate retelling possible. Maya wandered through the strange building she was in while trying to find her way. As excessively large and as beautiful as it was it felt and seemed awfully empty. It was the kind of emptiness which confessed that children had never run down these hallways, that nobody had ever laughed heartily in the branching rooms, and that it only existed at all because that was what to be _expected_ of the owner of the house.

So it made eerie yet perfect sense to Maya to see Miles Edgeworth coming out of the kitchen and heading into the sitting room, a cup of steaming tea in one hand and the morning's paper in the other. It couldn't have been any later than seven in the morning and he was already groomed and dressed, save for lacking his usual magenta coat. The girl held onto one of the corridor walls as the prosecutor noticed her standing there, looking up from the headlines carefully.

He didn't make any move to start the conversation. This made Maya feel very uncomfortable. "Um…" She began to say, stalling to find the correct words. Whether she liked it or not it was going to be a volley of direct questions. "Where am I? What am I doing here? What happened? Where did Nick go? Can I see him?" She was aware that all these questions made her seem juvenile but there wasn't anything else she could do to get the facts straight.

Edgeworth wasn't annoyed by the bombardment of questions. As a prosecutor he was asked and fired off questions all day long, so it was nothing new. Miles just made a quick tilt of his head toward the sitting room and went inside, meaning that Maya should follow him. The sitting room had a rather impressive window that was almost a ground floor balcony, giving visitors something nice to look out. Maya settled down in a chair close to where Miles had chosen to sit, the young man putting his tea and paper down on the coffee table.

When he leaned forward to do just that Maya could see very faint shadows beneath his eyes. No wonder he was ready so early, he probably hadn't even slept yet. "You are in my home. I didn't want to bring you here but last night there didn't seem to be much of a choice. The arrangements I made are better than any the police department would have made, I assure you. Now that you're up you can go at any time."

It seemed that Edgeworth was eager to get rid of her. Now that his gentlemanly obligation had been fulfilled there was no reason for Maya to hang around. She still felt grateful to the young prosecutor though. He had had every option to leave her out in the cold, but he hadn't. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mr. Edgeworth. It was very kind of you. You're not as cold-blooded outside of court as you are when you're in the middle of one." She said with a little sit-down bow.

He guessed that was supposed to be a compliment, maybe. "It was nothing." He replied defensively, yet softly. Edgeworth picked up the morning paper and shook it a bit to get the folded crease out. As of yet there was nothing in the papers about Polonius' murder, but it was bound to be slathered all over the news channels. That was why Edgeworth was hollowly enjoying the paper rather than the news; he didn't want to hear about it. He had spent a good portion of the night thinking about it. That was enough.

Maya's thoughts turned to her clothing. These pajamas she was wearing certainly weren't hers, they were easily about three sizes too big. She liked the colour purple better too, rather than pink. "Whose clothes are these?" She asked innocently, trying to steer the conversation toward what had happened in the night, after she had fallen asleep. Another thought entered her mind and made her frown, instantly suspicious. "And… who put them on me? I don't remember getting changed."

"Your clothes were damp when I carried you inside. You would have caught your death of cold if you had not been changed into something drier. Those are a pair of my spare pajamas. I didn't have anything smaller for you on hand." Edgeworth explained as he turned a page of his newspaper.

There was an unnecessarily heavy silence. After a moment of feeling it bearing down on him he looked over at Maya who was turning red from embarrassment and fury. It was mostly fury. The young prosecutor immediately put the pieces together. "Oh no, I didn't _dress_ you if that's what you were thinking. I had the maid do that for me instead."

Part of the redness in Maya's face disappeared. "Really?" She asked, because if Edgeworth was lying and saw anything she would have to kill him in such a way that his spirit would never be able to come back and haunt the living world.

"Of course. He didn't mind." The comment was offhand, and really, it was a joke, but Maya didn't get it in time to find it very funny. Edgeworth should really have stuck to being cold, but with Maya's best friend locked up in a cell somewhere she needed distraction.

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya scolded but she knew he didn't mean it. The young girl stood up from her seat and made a very loud announcement. "I'm gonna get dressed, grab some breakfast then you and I are going to drive down to the detention center and see Nick. He must be going crazy with worry for me! I have to tell him I'm okay. And…" She appeared thoughtful for a moment. "We need him to tell us exactly what happened and arrange him some legal counsel or something. Let's take your bright red car, Mr. Edgeworth."

He put the morning paper down in a hurry. "Wait a second! You are not going to get me involved with this. It has nothing to do with me. Wright caused this mess by himself and I helped you out of courtesy. _Only_ courtesy! Go and see him if you'd like, but I'm not taking you anywhere. I'm a busy man, I don't have the time to be running all over the city like you and Wright seem to mindlessly enjoy." He said heatedly. It felt like he was going to be pulled into something and he needed to resist that tide at all costs.

"That's not true!" Maya fought back with equal force. "You _are_ involved in this. You witnessed the murder just like I did and you're Nick's _friend_, though I don't know why he even bothers to try with you sometimes. When stuff like this happens you _need_ your friends surrounding you most of all. When _you_ were locked up in that detention center and running out of hope who came and helped to save you? Phoenix Wright, that's who! You're not going to do the same for him?"

"You're wrong." Edgeworth argued, but this was not a courtroom and he did not have the evidence to refute Maya's testimony. His objection was weak at best. He sighed. "I never had hope."

"But I think you can agree with me that Nick isn't anything like you. I bet he's hoping like crazy that the guards will yank him out of his cell and take him to the visitor's center, because you or me or Gumshoe or Larry will be waiting there." Maya calmed down a little. "C'mon Mr. Edgeworth. You can fit one hour into your busy schedule, can't you? I can wait, or else I'll just walk there myself. It's only a couple of miles, right?"

Actually it was more like ten miles because the detention center was located downtown. As infuriating as it was this girl did have a point. He owed it to the idiotic defense attorney to at least see him before he was to be permanently locked away. There wouldn't be much hope for his case, not with an auditorium full of witnesses able to testify about what they saw. Edgeworth had a very simple reason why he didn't want to see Phoenix mournfully behind bars. He would not mention it to Maya, but there was a very good chance that the prosecutor's office might commission him to prosecute this very case.

And if that were to happen Miles couldn't be allies to any of them. He'd have to try his very hardest to give Phoenix a life sentence, or better yet, a lethal injection.

No wonder Edgeworth had been unable to sleep.

He thought Maya's words over and then sighed again. It couldn't be helped. There were great odds heaped against him about escaping from this case. He might as well stop resisting and just go along with it. It was fortunate that he was caught between cases and he had the time to spare, but working under that same logic it meant that his chances of being handed Phoenix's case were greatly heightened. "Very well. You win, Miss Fey. I'll take you down to the detention center once visiting hours have begun, but _right after that_ I am going to work. I'll wash my hands of you after you see Wright."

The girl grinned and looked like she was about to jump up and down with joy. "Thanks! You can call me Maya from now on. I hate being called 'Miss', it's far too formal. I'd better go get ready now, I'll be back soon!" Immediately after talking she dashed from the room. Miles watched her go with disbelief over her energetic disposition, then smiled a little as he reached for his tea.

"Take your time, Miss Fey." He muttered to the girl who was no longer there. "We won't be leaving for another two hours, at least."

xxx

For Maya Fey, killing two hours was incredibly difficult. All she wanted to do was run downtown and see her friend, she ever considered ditching Edgeworth and doing just that, but all that convincing and beating her will into Miles' skull would have all been for nothing. The spirit medium got changed into her fresh clean clothes and then made the bed, tucking the borrowed pair of pajamas under the pillow. The maid would have done this for her easily but she hadn't come in to work yet, as it was too early and Edgeworth had requested her to come back to work late last night.

Doing pointless tasks killed time too, but there was nothing pointless about finding herself some early morning grub. Maya broke into the kitchen and cooked herself an omelet with ingredients she found in the fridge. It was pretty good stuff, although slightly burnt in some places. Edgeworth came in at some point while she was cooking to feed his dog Pesu, who was bouncing about his heels like a little puppy. It was strange, as he didn't seem like the kind of person who would own a pet, let alone a huge ball of yapping fluff. He told Maya to clean up the huge mess she was making after she was done and then left again.

She finished up her business at the stove and took her omelet to the table, but could sense Pesu's bright eyes resting on her back. Maya smiled at the doggy but when he began to beg for table scraps, not satisfied with the meal in his dish, one third of Maya's breakfast disappeared in little pieces down Pesu's throat. What do you know, she had finally found somebody who didn't criticize her cooking! Nick had always had a sarcastic comment ready no matter what she made. He mostly kept his comments to himself, but still, she knew.

Maya knelt down to about Pesu's height and took his little head with her hands, making the dog look at her face. His fluffy tail was wagging furiously, he didn't usually get to meet guests. "What do you think, doggy? Do you think there's any hope? Are we all wrong and Nick is innocent, or are we right and he's just as guilty as the next murderer? How can we be friends with a murderer? That's not right… right?" She closed her eyes. "I don't know what to think."

Pesu answered by licking her face. Maya couldn't help but giggle and try to push the dog away, but Pesu was steadfast and licked the girl's tears away. She hugged the big shiba inu and took him with her outside for awhile, wandering the grounds that were Edgeworth's backyard. She didn't have a leash to put the dog on but he seemed to follow her about anyway, save for a small detour to harass the ducks at the pond. Edgeworth certainly had a nice place, he must have inherited it from his parents after they had both passed away.

Her path didn't have much of a direction, it felt like she was moving about in a dream. It was really calm in the garden, like everything that had happened the night before couldn't penetrate this small, closed-in world. It was nice, but it wasn't natural. If things were normal she wouldn't be here, she'd be downtown in the apartment and watching morning cartoons on TV. That was wholesome and okay; this was not. Maya sniffed periodically to keep herself from crying again.

Eventually, as the fresh sun rose a little higher into the sky and the dew was beginning to evaporate from the grass Maya heard a shrill whistle coming from behind her. Pesu's ears perked up immediately and the dog whirled around as quick as a flash, a pretty amusing trick seeing as he had been on his back and wiggling around at the time. The sound was coming from Edgeworth who was standing on the driveway, beside his car and holding a small black briefcase. He looked about ready to get right into work.

The dog took off like a bullet toward his owner. Maya followed at a pretty encouraging pace too. Edgeworth knelt a bit and restrained the dog before he could jump up and attempt to knock him down. He patted him briefly, said; "I will be back soon, Pesu.", then stood and gave the dog a push in the direction of the house. Pesu got the hint and went off happily, probably thinking about ambushing the ducks again. The prosecutor unlocked the car and opened the back door for Maya to get inside.

"I can't wait to see Nick again." Maya confessed as she hopped inside and belted herself in. Edgeworth got in the driver's seat and adjusted the mirror a little, laying his briefcase on the seat beside him. "I bet he'll be so happy to see us! Um, will your dog be okay outside all by himself? What if he gets lost?"

"He will be fine. He gets lonelier inside than out." Edgeworth said absently as he put the key in the ignition and started up the car. As they left the driveway and the gate opened then closed automatically the prosecutor hesitated in what he was going to say next, but decided to speak anyway. Maya's blithering optimism was annoying. "You should be aware of something, Miss Fey."

Maya was trying to be on her best behavior, as she was calling in a lot of favors lately. "What's that?" She asked.

"The circumstances of Wright's arrest are much more serious than you and he would be accustomed to. Previously he has only been arrested on _suspicion_ of murder, and that suspicion was a baseless assumption anyway." He was trying to keep his words simple for Maya's benefit, speaking softly. "This time there is no reason to doubt his guilt. The police force must not be treating him with the best of care right now. Just be prepared to keep your composure the next time you see him."

Every report on police brutality she had ever read in the papers or seen on TV came back to bite her with a vengeance. She shivered. Edgeworth was right, for what he had done Nick wouldn't be making many new friends, with either the police force or the other prisoners. She hoped he was okay. Gumshoe would be taking care of him, right?

"We'll see." Maya said grumpily, folding her arms in a way that only angry teenagers could manage.

The first cop she saw today was going to get a thorough shin-kicking, no doubt about that.


	4. In Detention

"…I don't see why you had to kick me, pal. I didn't do anything wrong."

Gumshoe had just finished hopping up and down on one foot for awhile, holding his knee and his smarting shin. He had that usual scolded 'kicked-puppy' look on his face that many people found familiar, and for the situation it seemed rather appropriate. Maya had taken a good portion of her aggression out on the large detective and she was much calmer, while Edgeworth had stood back and observed without interference. All three of them were standing on the steps of the detention center, Edgeworth and Maya going in while Gumshoe had been coming out.

"I feel better now." Maya sighed, stretching in the cold morning air. The sun was out but it wasn't doing much to dispel the seasonal chill. She hadn't seen Gumshoe since the night before. It looked like he hadn't had a chance to change his clothes yet, they were all crinkled and his tie was crooked. He noticed Maya inspecting his clothes and adjusted said tie accordingly.

It was embarrassing. Dick had been up all night trying to keep the other detectives from antagonizing their suspect too much, but his body was burnt out on caffeine and he was ready to go home for some blissful sleep. Gumshoe couldn't be everywhere at once though, so during a few interviews he hadn't been there to mediate. He felt really bad for it and once the little girl found out the reason why he felt bad those kicks would be justified. Maybe she'd even come back for round two.

Unfortunately for Gumshoe his luck had never been very good. By the time he was permitted to go home and put everything out of his mind for awhile the chief came up and told him to get his butt on over to the crime scene, because he had just been appointed head of the police investigation team. As the first cop to react to the murder it had become his duty to manage everything himself. Dick had to suck it up, pour something black and strong into a thermos and then get back to work.

"Are you in a hurry, detective?" Edgeworth questioned smoothly. Most of the time he practically had a set of strings attached to Gumshoe and the young prosecutor knew it. He liked it that way, it made things so much easier when gathering information to gain a guilty verdict. He supposed that Gumshoe was his puppet, but the guy was a puppet who was also his friend.

"Of course! _Somebody_ has to solve the mystery of the curtain killing! It's going to be in all the papers soon enough, so I have to work fast! Not that it'll be difficult to figure out seeing we know who the killer is. I just gotta start with that and work backwards! It'll be easy." Gumshoe laughed, but felt bad for lightening up a bleak situation so he frowned right afterwards.

"Agatha Christie used that same method too." Edgeworth said in a bemused tone. "We are here to speak with Wright. Will Miss Fey and I be able to gain clearance to see him?"

"I don't see why not." Gumshoe smiled. "Just tell them that I said it was alright. Now I'd better be getting out of here. If I can get to those curtains before anybody else does I might be able to ebay 'em and get some savings into my account. 'The curtains from the Curtain Killing murder!' See you later Mr. Edgeworth, and you too kid!" He blundered down the steps but stopped abruptly as he remembered one last thing. He looked embarrassed as he shouted; "Tell your friend I'm sorry 'bout what happened to his face!"

"What?" Maya called back, not understanding what the detective meant. Gumshoe was already out of shouting range, scurrying to his beat-up brown bomb of a car. She guessed that justice never rested or slept. Poor guy.

The mismatched pair of the girl in strange garb and the prosecutor in the magenta coat slipped into the detention center and managed to score a brief half hour visit with the suspect of the theater stabbing, or the 'Curtain Killing' case as Gumshoe so uniquely put it. They got this visit only through three supporting factors. The least was the mention of Gumshoe's name, the next was because Edgeworth was obviously a lawyer of some repute, but the main reason was that the officer clerk was afraid that Maya might rip his throat out if he didn't give in.

Still, it took a while for the interview to be arranged. Nick had to be extracted from his cell, briefly searched, marched to the visitor's center and then searched again before being let inside. Maya and Edgeworth knew this because they had once been prisoners themselves, however they also knew that they had been treated to minimum security while Nick was receiving security to the max. All in all they had to wait twenty five minutes for the prisoner to arrive.

The guard led Nick into the visiting room by the arm and then securely locked the door behind him so escape would be impossible. The spikey-haired man was stripped of the costume he had been wearing the night before and he was clothed only in an ugly orange jumpsuit, normal prison wear. He had an eight digit number printed where the front pocket should have been and he raised his bound hands up a little so the guard could remove his handcuffs. The metal bindings came off with a snap and Nick rubbed at his red raw wrists sheepishly. He walked over to the thick plastic screen and sat down heavily, burdened in some invisible way.

He seemed so tired that he hadn't even noticed Maya and Edgeworth waiting on the other side of the screen. Maybe he had been expecting legal aid instead of a visit from his friends. Maya jumped up and pressed both her hands against the screen, smiling widely. This was an awful situation but she was just glad to see he was more or less okay. "Nick! Nick, how are you? Are you okay? Have the police been treating you alright? It's me, Maya! Edgeworth's here too, I dragged him along with me."

Nick looked up at her and Maya saw the hideously large bruise down along his cheek and jaw. It was dark and sore-looking, made some time last night. Phoenix smiled despite the pain he must be feeling, both physically and in his conscience. "Aw Maya, I'm glad you came. I'm sorry about last night, I ruined it for everybody." He rubbed the side of his neck wretchedly. "Especially Polonius. God, I still can't believe that actually happened. I keep expecting it to be some sick joke played on me, but it's the next day now and I haven't woken up yet. Were you okay after I left? I was worried about you."

"Well, luckily for me Mr. Edgeworth took me in for the night. He took good care of me so you didn't have to worry." The expression of relief on Nick's face made Maya feel better as well. She calmed down a bit. Edgeworth was standing by, as detached as he could be, looking like he was wasting his time standing around there. He was waiting for a phone call, _the_ phone call that would put him in charge of this case.

But with Nick's relief something else followed it. Tears. His eyes watered and then he held his face in his hands, not making a sound aside from sniffles and shakes. Maya wanted to leap through the plastic screen and give him a hug, make him feel better, but anything she could do now would be ineffectual. She couldn't wind back time and undo the crime had he committed, though she wished dearly that she could. "Hey… don't cry." Maya said gently. "It'll be alright, you'll see. This is all just a big misunderstanding. You'll be found innocent and then you'll be free."

"But I did it. I really, _really_ did it. I murdered somebody, I'm not denying that. I'm guilty." Saying that out loud, admitting it to somebody who wasn't an unfriendly policeman made Phoenix feel much better. He wiped his face with the back of a hand and winced as he touched his bruise. Letting out a deep breath helped as well, and Nick finally felt partially in control of himself again. He looked Maya and Edgeworth in the eye and tried to smile. "No court will find me innocent if I'm truly guilty."

"Pull yourself together Wright and stop your sniffling. Nobody is doubting your guilt regarding the murder of that actor." Edgeworth said with a sharp tongue and an even sharper glare. He should have found it amusing to see his rival sink so low but instead he found it simply pathetic. When _he_ had once been in Wright's position he had accepted it with far more grace. Phoenix hung his head in shame. "I do not care whether you killed that man or not, the question is whether you _intended_ to kill that man last night. Did you intend to?"

"Of course not!" Nick shouted and it was the first bit of energy he had shown all morning. His mood was shifting from resigned to depressed to angry so fast that Edgeworth wondered if the police had given him some kind of drug to mess with his nerves. "I'd never plan to kill anybody! If I had planned to kill that night I never would have invited any of you to come watch! Edgeworth, please. You know I couldn't do something like that, least of all to an old friend."

"So, wait. You knew Polonius from before the play?" Maya asked, feeling that they were on to something. If Nick hadn't intended to kill Polonius then that branched out to two lines of thinking. Phoenix had either killed due to a simple, horrible accident, or somebody had taken the time to set him up. Maya was in the role of the detective now, having to put the pieces together practically by herself.

He nodded, but he was looking at Edgeworth more than he was looking at Maya. "Yes. Back when I was in acting college he was my teacher. Actually he was more like the dean of the school but he still taught classes on the side. I learned everything I know about drama from him. When I dropped out I heard he resigned about a year later, and it was only a coincidence that he happened to be managing the theater troupe when I joined."

"Is that the truth?" Edgeworth pressed. Nick looked like he had just been insulted but nodded again. It sounded awfully convenient to just be a coincidence, but Phoenix lacked one thing that all pre-meditated killers required; a motive. Maybe if they kept asking they might uncover one. "Can you tell us any other details about the victim? Anything that a court might find to be relevant?"

The prosecutor had dealt with hundreds of liars in his near-perfect career. He could just about _see_ a lie forming on a person's face. Edgeworth observed Phoenix hesitate and then come within a hair's width of telling a lie, but then he changed his mind at the very last moment and chose to omit details instead. What he said was the truth, but it was not the _entire_ truth. "First of all Polonius' real name was Mr. Stanislavski. It's a bit of a mouthful, that's why people preferred to say his stage names instead. He was a very kind and understanding man, he always had time to spare to help you out no matter how far behind in grades you were. He gave everybody a chance."

"Including yourself?" Edgeworth pressed further. Maya was just watching their exchange, much as she used to do while behind the defense's bench.

"I never needed help in college and my grades were good. I was the forth or fifth best actor in the school. Good enough to be better than average, not good enough to receive any special acclaim. I didn't care about stuff like that, but I needed the money now to pay all the bills. In the present he was helping me, yes. Why would I want to kill somebody who was lending me a hand?"

It did seem a little strange. Perhaps the real reason lay behind the omission of details. Edgeworth couldn't trust Phoenix totally on the facts for as long as he seemed to hide things, but this information here seemed pretty valid. In the beginning of the visit he had only planned on standing by and just listening, _only_ that, but he was involuntarily taking control of the situation. Nobody else would. If Maya had known this was going to happen and had dragged him here because of that then she was cleverer than she appeared.

"I believe you may have been framed." Edgeworth said, choosing his words carefully.

"The whole thing _does_ smell pretty fishy. If somebody knew that Nick had a history with Mr. Stan… Mr. Stanislav… uh, Polonius then they could have used him to commit the murder for themselves!" Maya announced, her hands balled into fists. If she thought things that way it made much more sense. "Do you know what this means? Nick's innocent!"

The idea didn't seem to console him much. Even if it was true it'd be nigh impossible to prove. He would never be truly innocent, as that man's blood had been all over his hands. Phoenix couldn't help but yawn, the cops had laid into him with their questioning all night long. He thought that he'd finally be able to sleep later on, knowing that his friends still cared about him despite his actions. "I'll just have to wait and see what the judge thinks I am. Nobody's going to want to represent a self-confessed killer so I'll just have to represent myself."

"Isn't that a little risky? And won't that make you seen even more suspicious? You won't be able to gather and compile evidence while you're locked up in a prison cell either. There'll be no ammunition for you to use during the trial." Maya announced. What he had professed to do would only make things harder for himself. If he was the only defense attorney willing to take his case then he had no choice, but it certainly wasn't fair.

"I think I'll have to get used to risky from now on." Nick replied sadly and absently touched the bruise on his cheek. It was in just the right place to be thrown by a right-handed man with a firm punch. "I coughed on some cigarette smoke from the detective interviewing me and he took it as an act of aggression. I suppose I also said something unflattering about his hygiene as well. I guess there's one bad cop for every good cop in the force."

"You should put some ice on that." Maya advised but Nick just smiled wanly at her and didn't say anything. At that moment Edgeworth's cell phone rung, playing a brief polyphonic ringtone of the Fur Elise. He took the small streamlined object and retreated to a corner of the room, leaving Nick all to Maya. She took this chance to say the things she wanted to say without the prosecutor looming over her shoulder. Maya started to cry silently, but the emotion was thick in her voice. "I can't let you do this alone. Let me go to the crime scene and I'll find all the evidence you'll need to get a not guilty verdict."

"Maya, you know that isn't going to work. The crime scene would only be open to the police investigators, the prosecution and the defense teams. You're not a lawyer, they'll just think you're a kid nosing around. I appreciate the thought, but if you really want to help me then keep yourself safe while I'm unable to take care of you." Phoenix looked very sincere. "I'm grateful to Edgeworth for what he's done. If anybody is going to prosecute me I hope it'll be him."

The girl jumped in her seat like she had been pinched. She hadn't even _thought_ of a concept like that yet. Surprised, Maya's eyes widened. "Oh no! That's not funny at all! I was going to make him help me but if he's the enemy I'll have to do this on my own. Maybe I can get Larry or Gumshoe to help me. I've decided, Nick! As soon as you're out of this place I'm going to get a car and a license. No more carpooling for me!"

"How exactly are you planning to get a car?" Phoenix asked uneasily. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Easy! You're going to buy me one."

"What? I can't even afford one for myself and you're saying-"

"Excuse me." Edgeworth said over the both of them and effectively killed the conversation. He snapped his cell phone closed and pocketed it professionally. His face was neutral, calm. Whatever news he had just received he was able to keep completely to himself, because Maya and Phoenix could not read his unruffled expression. "I have just received a call from the prosecutor's office. They are wondering where I am, but I also made an inquiry as to who will be managing the Wright case. It seems that the media are planning to make this the story of the month, and because of my recent 'dealings' with the sharp end of the law the office has chosen to keep me out of the spotlight."

"So that means…" Maya ventured, hoping that this was what she thought it was, but daring not to say it herself.

"I will not be prosecuting Wright's case." He said. Maya sighed in relief and rested her head on the bench. Phoenix and Miles fought all the time but she didn't want to see them participating in a tug-of-war over Nick's life. However, this also meant that the crime scene was just as closed off to Edgeworth as it was to Maya. His use had suddenly dwindled down to nothing. He continued. "It seems that a new prosecutor has elected to take this case. It is to be his first trial and he wishes to be broken-in before the eyes of the media. It's a foolish idea if you ask me."

Well, if the prosecutor was a rookie then Phoenix felt a little more confident about the upcoming trial. He himself had a small handful of cases under his belt so at least he'd be the more experienced adversary. "So who is this prosecutor? Do you know him, Edgeworth? What's he like?" If he couldn't compile evidence the best he could do was know his enemy as well as he was able. Unfortunately for Phoenix, though, he was about to get the shock of a lifetime, one that would not be as bad as the cold rush he had received last night but pretty close.

"I have never met him so I don't know what he's like. He only came to the prosecutor's office last month." Edgeworth took his phone out of his pocket again and checked the time. Thanks to this idiotic lawyer and his assistant he was running mortifyingly late. He also had an appointment with the chief in a couple of hours time. "His name is Mr. Allegory. I think he was schooled locally." The prosecutor looked up from his phone and met an interesting sight, an unexpected sight.

The only time he had seen Nick glare so venomously was when his defendant's life was on the line and he was running out of ideas. He seemed quietly furious, but his hands on the dull white table were trembling. "Allegory?" He demanded with a hoarse twist to his voice. "_Dante_ Allegory? Is that who you're talking about? It is, isn't it? Tell me the truth!" Phoenix slammed his fists down on the table at the accusation.

Miles blinked. "Uh… yes. Is that a problem?"

Yes it was. It was a _huge_ problem. The spikey-haired man seemed to crumble when he heard Edgeworth's affirmation. "No." He groaned to nobody in particular and slumped down onto the table, wrapping his arms over his head to block out the world and what he was hearing. When he spoke again he was wracked with frustrated sobs. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. He couldn't take it anymore, it was all too much. "I can't do this. This isn't happening. I want to go back to my cell. This… this is all wrong…"

"What is it? What's wrong? Nick, please talk to us!" Maya cried, but Edgeworth placed a hand on her shoulder and kept her from saying anything else with a single glance. Saying that prosecutor's name had completely broken the remaining semblance of composure that the defense attorney had. Pressing him any further would do more harm than good. It was so pitiful seeing a competent man reduced to a whimpering mess. It made Miles feel sick.

The guard had heard Nick's plea to be taken away and he was strolling over to the screen, taking out the cuffs again. "All right, this visit's over." He barked and handled Nick with a careless amount of force, prying his arms away from his head and twisting one a little to make the prisoner straighten up as a reaction to the pain. Phoenix gritted his teeth as his hands were bound but he stood up by his own free will, wishing that he had wiped his eyes before he lost that ability.

As he was guided to the door he turned back for a second to say; "I… I'm sorry for being difficult. Come see me again… before the trial tomorrow, please? Maya, be good…"

The door slammed shut and locked behind them. Maya was left sitting there trying to take in all that had happened. She had never seen her friend lose it like that before. Prior to Nick shielding his face from Edgeworth and herself he had looked like a terrified child. The nightmare was only deepening for him. "I wish I knew what the heck was going on." She admitted to the older man standing behind her. "Nothing makes any sense."

Edgeworth left the room without replying to her. Maya got up to follow and found him a few minutes later leaning against a pillar of the detention center outside, a hand on his chin as he thought. He had fulfilled his promise to Maya and now he was free to go. Edgeworth knew this but still he stood there, thinking. Wright's reaction to that other prosecutor's name meant something, he just didn't know what. When Maya caught up to him he spoke his mind, plain and simply. "I feel sick. It's strange. I was feeling fine this morning."

The spirit medium could sense that Edgeworth was going somewhere with this. He flicked his cell phone open and hit the speed dial, a sober frown upon his lips. "I feel so ill, in fact, that I don't think I can go to work today. The prosecutor's office will just have to get along without me for a time." He left a curt message at the office about a migraine and Maya smiled, understanding what he was getting at. Knowing Edgeworth he'd have plenty of sick days to spare.

"What are you going to do, Mr. Edgeworth? I mean, what _can_ you do with a migraine and all?" Maya asked, flashing a little conspirator's grin. Things wouldn't seem so daunting if she had somebody else to help and rely on. She was sure that Nick wouldn't mind if she tagged along with other people.

The young prosecutor walked leisurely to his car parked nearby, Maya trailing behind him like a shadow. "I think that on my way home to recover I'll stop by the theater on the other side of town. I didn't get enough of last night's performance. Are you coming, Miss Fey?" He opened the door for her and smiled craftily. A wind blew through the car park, carrying a gust of dried leaves. Maya felt the cold breeze sting her face and silently remarked ot how absurd it seemed for Edgeworth to volunteer for _anything_. She hadn't even begun to bug him yet and he had already caved-in.

Before getting in the car Maya jumped on him first. She tried to hug him as best as she could with the young man trying to push her away. Edgeworth probably wasn't used to hugs. That was okay, because if they found the evidence needed to get Phoenix off the hook she'd _make_ him used to hugs. "Of course I'm coming! Let's get down to the theater, pronto! Drive as fast as you can and ignore all the red lights!"

"Hey! Hey, let go of me! What on earth are you doing?" Edgeworth pried the girl off his chest and set her back down on the asphalt. He began to have second thoughts as Maya dived into the car and slammed the door loudly. She grinned like a little fiend at him from behind the glass, then wound the window down with the press of a button near the door handle. "I don't understand how you can be crying one moment and then smiling the next. You don't have some kind of attention disorder, do you?"

"Actually it's the opposite. As a spirit medium I have to be able to focus hard for really long periods of time. The truth is that if I don't believe I can make a difference and just sit by and cry then I really _will_ be useless." Maya sat back in the seat. "Come on, Edgeworth. We don't have much time."

With this girl by his side the make-believe headache that Miles supposedly had was slowly becoming real.


End file.
